


Rites of passage

by endlessblu



Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic (Video Game)
Genre: Family Issues, Ficlet, Gen, Needles, One Shot, Prologue, Tattoos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-11
Updated: 2020-11-11
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:55:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27515689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/endlessblu/pseuds/endlessblu
Summary: A mark of status, a symbol of power.Emyr is given his tattoo before leaving for Korriban to complete his training. A prologue to the class story.
Kudos: 8





	Rites of passage

_A rite of passage._ That was how it was announced to them. The tattoo, a symbol to mark their status as they became true Sith, emblems etched onto their skin to command respect, inspire fear, assert power over enemies and allies alike. Something to be proud about, showing their positions at the pinnacle of society and demonstrating their devotion to the Sith, and to the Emperor. 

Something to embrace. Soon they would all be progressing to Korriban, the world only the finest of acolytes reached, a place to break them down and craft them again anew, unlocking greater strength, the raw power of the dark side. 

Thana had no trouble embracing it. Shoved her way to the front of the group, sat in the chair with her eyes fixed forward, staring them all down with a challenging gaze and a wicked grin as the needle approached. As the colour flooded her eyelid, she actually _laughed._ Sparks crackled at her fingertips, ripples of untamed force energy shook against her fellow acolytes as they lined up against the wall. 

But Thana never had trouble embracing a thing. Blazed her path through training and made sure no other acolyte stood in her way. Boasted constantly of her power, how she tore down a street in Kaas City when she was just a child, all because her parents denied her the chance to use her talents. She was presented as an example, a perfect message of the futility of hiding a force sensitive child from the Empire. _The Sith will always win._

Emyr had also been made to hide, long enough for it to become instinctive. Not because he wanted to, but because he was asked to by people that he loved. 

_Don’t think about them now._

He was supposed to have broken free of those memories, the chains that held him back. He’d learnt to use this great power he held, had the chance to become the mighty Sith he’d dreamed of being as a child growing up in the heart of the Empire. His family may have been devastated by scandal and shame, but he could be the one to restore the glory and pride that was once theirs. 

His grandparents would be proud of him now. After all, weren’t they the ones who’d raised him? Pulled so many strings, eked whatever last drop of favour they still had, just so he could get this far and not be locked up too as the son of traitors. 

“Next,” the overseer snarled. Emyr was grabbed by the shoulder, thrust forward to a chorus of jeers from the other acolytes. “Get in the chair, Devand.” 

He swallowed, but otherwise allowed no tension to enter his body as he approached the tattooist. His expression stayed still, stoic and unreadable as he took his place in the chair. The pain burst through him as the needle entered the skin over his eye, but not an inch was betrayed in his face. 

_Deep garnet framing a green eye. A lightsaber igniting in an outstretched hand, crashing against another in a blinding light. Familiar faces, almost forgotten._

No going back now. A permanent etching on his skin, a reminder of where loyalties lay. His parents could be dead by now, _should_ be dead to him anyway. 

_But now I’ll be dead to them too._


End file.
